


Third Law

by twinklukeskywalker



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Characters will be updated as they appear, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jim is a Whole Mess, M/M, Mind Meld, Nyota Uhura is a Good Friend, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Really Heavy Angst, Spock is a Whole Mess, Suicide Attempt, Vulcan Bond, rebonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinklukeskywalker/pseuds/twinklukeskywalker
Summary: "When one body exerts a force on a second body, the second body simultaneously exerts a force equal in magnitude and opposite in direction on the first body."- Newton's 3rd Law of MotionSpock goes to Gol. Jim feels the strain. It nearly breaks them.





	1. Chapter 1

Silence. That was what greeted him, standing on the foreign bridge of the familiar ship. Silence except for the whining bells and whistles of the scanning equipment. His captain was staring at him, his face a pleased looking shock but his eyes a painful shadow. 

“Spock?” 

Spock said nothing, though his mind, until recently a quiet, ordered place, screamed at him to reclaim his  _ T’hy’la.  _ He would deal with it later. Would have too, as the masters at Gol clearly knew he would. Jim sat back in the captain’s chair. Their mission continued. 

—————

The first time Spock noticed was his conversation with Jim and McCoy in the Captain’s Quarters, when Jim was wearing the short-sleeved version of the new uniforms. Spock had always made it a point to keep eye contact in conversation, but when Jim was speaking to McCoy, his eyes could not help but wander. They fell on Jim’s bare forearm. Here, a smudge caught his eye; it was almost as if Jim’s tan was rubbing off, revealing a thin, whiter band of skin on his wrist. It was only visible for .86 seconds before Jim turned his hand over and the mark was gone from view. 

It was puzzling to be sure, but Spock chose, however illogically, to attribute the blemish to a trick of the light. After all, he had been traveling all day, and it could be his exhaustion finally catching up to him. He didn’t mention it. 

The mission continued. 

—————-

The second time he noticed was when he was laying in sickbay, his head throbbing and his body sore, Jim’s hand wrapped around his own. This time he could not blame it on a trick of the light; the sickbay lights are bright and sterile and cast hardly any shadows. The smudge, now slightly larger, is obviously a kind of concealer, covering the white line of a thin scar. 

Again, he only manages a .74 second look before Jim turns his hand. 

He goes on about “this simple feeling,” and V’ger’s self-proclaimed mission to find its Creator. 

The mission continued. 

——————

Back in San Francisco, sitting in his new apartment, Spock read that Starfleet called the mission a success. Why, he did not know; V’ger had killed many people, including Lori Ciani, the woman Kirk had  _ married _ . 

He had come across it in the Federation archives he had been studying since his return, quite a few headlines, all some variation of  _ Playboy Captain Marries _ . It left a bad taste in his mouth, if Vulcans had that turn of phrase. He let his mind wander, feeling the bonding site, dulled both by distance and the  _ Kholinar _ rituals; but it was not broken. 

“Spock.” Spock turned to the doorway. 

“Admiral,” he said. Traitorously, his eyes darted to the smudge on his wrist, to the scar he knew it hid.

“Don’t call me Admiral, Spock,” Jim said. “All it does is remind me that I’ve been riding a desk for three years.” 

The mood was immediately icy. As Spock’s mother would say, there was the elephant in the room, and Jim clearly wished it discussed. 

“What is on your wrist” 

Jim’s hands wrung themselves together, his right thumb tracing his left, just barely coming into contact with the scar. His lips were pursed, and the muscles in his jaw were tight. 

“You know what they are. Don’t bullshit me.” 

Spock was taken aback, but three years of the  _ Kholinar _ were not easily lost. “Pardon?”

“You heard what I said.” Jim’s temper was obviously short. “You know, I presume?” 

“I know that the scar’s length and width, along with their location along the radial artery are consistent with attempted suicide. I also have gathered that you were given a leave of absence three months and four days after I left for Vulcan, after which you had a whirlwind engagement with one Lori Ciani, whom you later married. It is a simple step in logic.” 

“Of course. Very logical.” There was a venom in Jim’s voice, and it burned. “I suppose you want to know why?” 

“I could extrapolate why, but I know that I will most likely be missing a human nuance that you would have in your explanation. I would therefore ask that you explain it to me.” 

Jim sighed. “I shouldn’t owe you anything Spock. You left me.” 

“And yet I know that you will give it to me,  _ T’hy’la _ .” 

“Don’t call me that!” This was the first time Jim had shown true anger. He spat the statement out, his eyes flaming. “I can’t stand to hear it.” 

“My apologies.” 

Jim huffed, crossing his arms. 

“So you want the truth, Mr. Spock?” 

“If you would, Jim.” 

“I don’t know what else I could give you, since you seemed to have figured it all out for yourself. But here.” He pulled a PADD from his coat pocket and laid it on the table. “My medical records. Read them in your own time. Goodbye, Spock.” With that, he turned on his heel and made for the door. 

It took Spock 1.28 minutes to process what had happened before he made to grab the PADD on the the table in front of him. 

~~~~~~~

_ Stardate 7409.3  _

_ Emergency Room Intake: attempted suicide _

_ Attending Physician: Dr. Bella Frances  _

_ Patient: Kirk, James T. _

_ Condition: attempted suicide, brought in by Dr. Leonard McCoy. Intubated on arrival, 14cm long wounds to both wrists, radial artery and radial nerves damaged, one instance of v-fib, resuscitated, blood loss estimated at 35%, hypovolemic shock, BP 80/40, pulse faint, O2 saturation 80. Toxicology report shows a blood alcohol level of .14 with traces of Alprazolam. Flumazenil and charcoal administered with caution. Patient was stabilized for transport to emergency surgery. _

_ ~~~~~~~ _

_ Stardate 7409.3  _

_ Surgical Notes _

_ Attending Physician: Dr. S’lovan T’Lara  _

_ Patient: Kirk, James T.  _

_ Notes: extensive vascular repair required of the radial artery, repair of the radial nerves required, patient went into ventricular fibrillation twice, both times was resuscitated, 8 units of blood were transfused, both wounds were repaired in 3.23 hours of surgery, full recovery expected.  _

_ ~~~~~~~ _

_ Stardate 7409.4  _

_ Attending Physician: Dr. S’lovan T’Lara _

_ Patient: Kirk, James T.  _

_ Patient Status: Post-Op - Repair of the radial artery and surrounding vascular structures and radial nerves following traumatic injury to both wrists. Critical, but stable.  _

_ Post-Op Notes: Good proximal and distal pulses in both arms following repair. Reflexes are intact following emergency nerve repair - scheduled for neurology consult for finer details. Patient is not yet extubated. Brain scans show normal brain activity, but additional neurological tests will be necessary. BP and pulse checked every 15 minutes to watch for PE. Psychological evaluation required. Patient is on suicide watch for the duration of stay.  _

~~~~~~~ 

Spock stopped reading; he’d seen enough. Reading the extent of Jim’s ordeal unsettled him. Jim was one of the most level-headed humans he had ever met, barring extremely difficult situations and missions they had encountered on board the  _ Enterprise _ , and even then he seemed to compartmentalize quite well. It was a skill required of every captain.  

Much as he loathed to admit it, if Vulcans were capable of such a thing, there was only one logical course of action, since Jim had still not answered his question. 

“Spock to Doctor McCoy.” 

_ “McCoy here. What is it Spock?” _

“Can you come to my apartment. It is a matter concerning the Admiral.” 

McCoy sighed.  _ “Well shit. He told you, didn’ he?” _

“I would not say that. He gave me his medical records, which do not elaborate more than I could deduce from the given clues.”

_ “What do you want from me, Spock?" _

“I simply require an explanation. And your view on the event. I feel it would be more reliable than the Admiral’s at this time.”

“ _ Gee I wonder why. I’ll be there in five. McCoy out. _ ”

McCoy arrived 5.67 minutes later, brandishing a bottle of whiskey and a box of what appeared to be Vulcan-style tea. He thrust the box at Spock and went into the kitchen to fetch a glass. 

“Please,” Spock said. “Come in Doctor.” He looked at the tea box in his hands. It was one of the finest brands available on Earth, and the quickness of the doctor’s arrival suggested that he had it at his convenience. Despite himself, Spock was touched. 

“Take a seat, Spock.” McCoy was sitting on a chair in the living room. He gestured to the one opposite. 

“This is a fine brand of tea. Thank you.” He sat on the edge of the chair.

“Not a problem.” McCoy looked vaguely uncomfortable. “So he told you?”

“As I explained-” 

“Yeah yeah, nothin’ you couldn’t  _ deduce _ . But still, seeing medical records ain’t easy. Then you just see every little thing that happened to him.”

“Medical records do not give reasons.” 

“Don’t they?” said McCoy. “Tell me, how far did you read?” 

“I finished the post-operative notes.” 

McCoy swirled the whiskey in the glass, looking at it thoughtfully. 

“What happens when Vulcan bonds break, Mr. Spock?” 

“Doctor?” 

“Humor me. What happens when Vulcan bonds break?” 

Spock looked distinctly uncomfortable, his mind beginning to put two and two together. “I have been told that it is beyond words. The worst thing to happen to a Vulcan mind apart from the  _ Pon Farr _ .” 

“Mmhmm. And if it is that bad for a stoic Vulcan mind, how’d you think it is for an emotional human one?” 

There was a thick, uncomfortable silence, broken only by the clink of McCoy’s glass against the table. 

“Our bond was never broken,” Spock said quietly. “Even the  _ Kholinar _ cannot break marriage bonds.” 

“Yes, but it was extremely suppressed, to the point where it’s hardly noticeable to you, correct?”

“How-“

“Jim didn’t know it wasn’t broken, Spock! He never had the mind training that Vulcans have. He didn’t have the skill to find a suppressed bond. We had to call in a Vulcan mind healer to assess his psychological damage, and she had to work some of y’all’s mind voodoo to protect him until his mind got used to it. He wasn’t the same for months. I still don’t think he is, however well he hides it!” 

“It was never my intention to hurt Jim. I explained to him why I had to pursue  _ Kholinar  _ before I departed, and I was unaware of the effects of a suppressed bond on the human mind.”

“It may not have been your intention, but it happened, Spock. Now you’re gonna have to confront that eventually. I know Jim was less than cooperative, but you need to make him sit his ass down and talk out whatever you two idiots need to talk out, because you are both miserable and I know it.”

Somehow, Spock looked even worse than he had. McCoy immediately went on damage control. 

“I’m sure you had your reasons, Spock, but you two were  _ married _ . More than that you were bonded, and it was a very deep, intense bond. There’s another person to consider when you had something like you two had.” He paused. “I will admit that it’s a little hard to be objective when you find your best friend bleeding out on his living room floor.” 

“I understand Doctor. I cannot begrudge Jim his feelings. It is...not the same, without the bond present. I will talk to Jim tomorrow.” 

“Good. That’s good Spock. Just don’t make him tell you more than he wants to. He jokes about it a lot, but I know it’s a coping mechanism.”

“Of course. Can I ask you one more thing?” 

“Shoot.” 

“Did he ever tell you why?” 

McCoy sighed. “He said he couldn’t live without you, in his note. For what it’s worth.” He stood and walked his glass to the kitchen, leaving Spock sitting in his chair, thinking. 

“Goodnight Spock.”

“Goodnight Doctor.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of this written already, so updates will be quick, most likely. It will get a little more graphic in the next chapter, as a warning. Don't worry, better things are in store for the gang as the story progresses, but some hell has to be got before we can get there. I'm taking major liberties with stardates so if anyone wants to correct me that's cool. I'm still a relatively new Trek writer, but I have read a lot of fics. I also don't have anyone to beta my work so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Some technicalities:  
> Alprazolam - the generic name for Xanax. Should not under any circumstances be mixed with alcohol, as this can cause respiratory depression. Side effects can include suicidal thoughts.  
> Flumazenil - a drug used to treat xanax overdoses. May cause seizures if not monitored.  
> Charcoal - used to absorb toxins in the stomach. Often used in poisonings or overdoses.  
> V-Fib (Ventricular Fibrulation) - a fast, uneven heartbeat which does not oxygenate the blood. Associated with cardiac arrest.  
> Hypovolemic Shock - a severe loss of blood (20% or higher). Can cause organ failure and death.  
> PE (Pulmonary Embolism) - A blood clot in the lungs. Can be fatal if not caught and treated. A risk after surgery, as blood clots can travel through veins. 
> 
> Now it's time to play Am I a med student or a writer?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is one of the only chapters I will put a warning on, because it is very graphic in how it deals with suicide and the consequences. Read with caution.

_ Three years earlier _

The drugs weren’t working. Neither was the booze. There still was a gaping hole in his mind, an emptiness that he had never even before the bond was in place. The initial agony had faded somewhat, and now it had been replaced by a dull, throbbing ache that pounded in his head with every beat of his heart. And still he stared at the little white pills in front of him. God he was losing his nerve.

Word on the street was that you mix this with a little booze and you’re down for a good 6 hours. Worth a shot, he guessed. He picked up the rum. 

————

Leonard grumbled as he was forced awake by the beeping of his communications terminal. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and groaned again. 0:37. Goddamnit. He stumbled over to his desk and hit the answer button, Jim’s face popping into view. 

_ “Bonnnesss. You look like shiiit.”  _ Jim’s eyes were unfocused, his pupils wide and dark, encompassing what looked like his whole iris. Leonard knew this was very, very bad. 

“Jim darlin’, what’s goin’ on?” He looked over Jim again. “Can you tell me what you took?” He asked this cautiously, not wanting a moody Jim to hang up.“I won’t get mad. I just want to know.” 

_ “I dooonnn’t ffffffucking know anymore,”  _ he slurred. _ “M’head hurtssss ssso bad. I jussst wanted it to ssstop. It’s sssome old shit I thinnnk.”  _

“Your head hurts?”

_ “I thinnnk it’sssss Spock’s fault that fucking bastard fuck. It hurts sooo baaad.”  _ His voice broke and Leonard saw tears on his face. 

“Okay darlin’ okay. Do you want me to come over? I can get you straightened out and then I can help you sleep.” He did not have a good feeling about this, especially considering how Jim had been acting since Spock had left.

_ “No. S’okay I just took something. They said it would help.”  _

Leonard decided to try again. “Jim what did you take? And who are ‘they’?”

_ “I don’t know they jusst said it would help,”  _ Jim whined. 

“Jim, I’m coming over. You can’t be alone tonight.”

_ “I’mmm ffffine. I’m not worthhhh worrying about.” _

“Of course you’re worth worrying about don’t say that.” Leonard was on high alert now. Jim was starting to scare him.

_ “Spock doesn’t think so.”  _

There it was. Clearly something had happened earlier to break Jim like this. The past three months hadn’t been easy for him, Leonard knew, but Jim was resilient. This wasn’t him. 

“Darlin’ listen to me. You are one of the strongest men that I’ve ever met, and you can get through this. I’ll come over and help. Okay?” 

It didn’t look like Jim registered a word that he said. His head lolled sideways and his mouth hung open. His lips were tinged blue.

“Shit! Jim! Jim can you hear me?” 

“ _ ‘M tired, _ ” Jim mumbled. He brought his hand up to his face, smearing blood across his cheek as his head dropped completely. The screen went black. 

Leonard swore loudly. He looked around the room for a pair of pants, finding one and pulling them on as he hopped to the door. He fell out of his bedroom and scrambled to his feet, grabbing his communicator on his way out of the apartment. Of course his building didn’t have a transporter in it so he would have to use the public one outside. He dialed the communicator as he ran. 

_ “911 what’s your emergency?”  _

_ ———— _

Leonard had to short the control panel to get into the apartment. He felt like vomiting _.  _

Jim lay on his side, the tan carpet around him slowly being stained scarlet. Blood dripped to the floor from a puddle on the desk. Leonard rushed over and dragged him out into the open, rolling him onto his back. Jim’s eyes were half open, but he didn’t see. There was no pulse, and he wasn’t breathing. There was so much blood...

Leonard immediately started CPR, cataloguing as he did so: no pulse, respiratory arrest, extreme blood loss, probable overdose, but on what he didn’t know. And here was his catch-22. As he struggled to keep Jim’s heart beating, the open wounds on his wrists gushed blood with every compression. He felt it stain his pants, soaking into the fabric where his knee rested on Jim’s arm as a makeshift tourniquet.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He swore under his breath as he pumped on Jim’s chest, feeling a rib crack. Where were the fucking EMT’s? “Dammit Jim. Come on darlin’ don’t do this. Not after that mission, come on.” 

His prayers were answered after what felt like hours, when two paramedics rushed in with a medevac stretcher. They dropped to their knees beside him.

“Doctor McCoy?” one asked as she pulled out an intubation tray and a laryngoscope.

“The very same,” he answered, still keeping his even, steady compressions. “Okay rundown:  37 year-old male, suicide attempt. Respiratory arrest, no pulse, massive blood loss, possible overdose. Substance unknown.” He was panting now, exertion and stress beginning to take their toll. 

“Alright. I’m Taylor, this is Davidson. Take over for the doctor,” Taylor barked at her partner, a young looking man with dark hair. Leonard shifted to the side to let him continue CPR. Taylor tilted Jim’s head back and situated the laryngoscope down his throat to pass the tube through. 

“Where are your tourniquets?” he asked, finding a tricorder and running the scanner over Jim. The tricorder screamed angrily. “He’s in v-fib!”

“Hand me the cardio stimulator. Tourniquets are in the lower pocket on the left.” Taylor paused squeezing the bag that kept Jim breathing. “Shocking!” The man - Davidson - removed his hands as Jim’s body jolted with the electric shock. Leonard passed the tricorder over him again while he moved down to Jim’s wrists. He left bloody handprints on the carpet.

“He’s still in fib!” 

“Shocking again!” 

Leonard inflated one tourniquet on Jim’s left arm. “Let me get the other one on and shock him again. If his heart has no blood to pump it won’t start.” He inflated one on Jim’s right. “Shock him again!”

It took three agonizing seconds, but this time Jim kept a faint rhythm and everyone slightly relaxed. Taylor kept bagging while Davidson handed Leonard pressure dressings to wrap Jim’s wrists - dermal regenerators were too slow to be useful in the field. As he pulled out a hypospray, Leonard snapped at him. 

“Don’t give him anything! I don’t know what kind of shit he mixed with his drinks and I don’t want him in cardiac arrest because of an adverse reaction.”

Davidson looked like a deer in the headlights, glancing over to his partner for support. 

“He’s right. We don’t know what he OD’ed on.” 

Secretly, Leonard was infuriated. Irrational yes, he knew. But they sent a rookie medic out on a call to one of Starfleet’s most celebrated figures? Fucking hell. 

They carefully transferred Jim to the stretcher - he was too unstable for a transport - and moved him out of the building to the ambulance. They had an audience. People from the complex, mainly Starfleet, had heard the commotion, and there were hushed whispers of shock and horror as they left. 

Leonard was unsteady on his feet, his eyes clouding with tears as the adrenaline wore off. The doors to the ambulance shut and he gave into his nausea. 

————

Jim looked awful. Leonard supposed it was to be expected, but it still was never easy to see his best friend looking like this. Jim had been on death’s door a good number of times during the mission, but it was different when he had done it to himself.

He was deathly pale, even against the white sheets. His hands were swollen and purpling near where they joined the wrists, which were wrapped up and resting on pillows. The black residue of the charcoal stained his lips and the intubation tube was still taped in, the machine beeping steadily as it breathed for him. IV’s made a mess of tubing around the bed, one the bright red of a blood transfusion. 

Leonard glanced at the chrono on the wall. 06:50. Jim had been out of surgery for almost two hours and he showed no sign of stirring. The neurosurgeon had said that it wasn’t a coma and that his brain scans were normal, but it was still a wait-and-see sort of thing. However advanced modern medicine was, sometimes the body had to heal itself. 

He hoped Jim would wake up soon. No one particularly wanted to take him back into surgery again so soon, but Dr. T’Lara had requested that neuro do some of the finer repair work that she had been unable to do in the initial surgery. 

Leonard sighed leaning back in his chair. God he was tired, and he still had to talk to Starfleet to set up a press release. 

His musings were interrupted by a quiet knock at the door. It was Lieutenant Commander Uhura, carrying two coffees. Leonard wordlessly accepted it as she sat down beside him. 

“He was doing so well,” he said finally. “I talked with him two days ago.” He felt Uhura squeeze his shoulder. 

“Len, sometimes these things just happen, and there’s nothing that we can do about it,” she said. “Especially if it was because of their bond. None of us know what it’s like for them, or what it’s like if something happens. What matters is that he is still here, and he’s here because you got to him in time.” She sipped at her coffee. 

They sat in silence for a while, listening to Jim’s steady heartbeat on the monitors and the goings on of the rest of the ICU. 

“Does his mother know?” Uhura asked. Leonard nodded. 

“I commed her when he was in surgery. She left a while ago to take Peter home. I just think she wanted to get him out of here.” He eyed Jim’s vitals again. “Did you call anyone else?”

“I called Sulu and Chekov, and they called Scotty. They said they want to come but they don’t want to overwhelm him. You know how the Admiral is.” However long they knew each other, Uhura found it difficult to refer to her former captain as ‘Jim.’ 

“I still have to think of a press statement for Starfleet,” Leonard groaned. “They want to avoid tabloids gossiping. I want it too, not only for Jim but for his mother. I can’t even imagine this happening to your child.” Nor did he want to; he loved Joanna too much. 

Movement at the corner of his eye distracted him; Jim’s eyelids were fluttering, and Leonard could hear him trying to breathe around the tube in his throat. He pressed the button on the wall for the doctors and went to Jim’s side, worried he might rip out his IV’s or his stitches.

“Hey darlin’ hey,” he said softly. “You’re okay. The doctor will be in soon to take that thing out of your throat okay? Just relax.” Jim’s eyes were wide, and his heartrate had jumped a few beats. Thankfully, Dr. T’Lara was quick in her arrival, tailed by two nurses. 

“James,” she said after checking the bio read-outs. “I’m going to pull the tube out of your throat. I need you to take a deep breath in and breathe out when I say. Do you understand?” At Jim’s nod, she disconnected the machine and undid the tape, grabbing the tube. “Deep breath, and, exhale.”

The tube came free, Jim coughing roughly as his throat got used to breathing again. He immediately turned to Leonard, mouth moving as he tried to speak. What came out was a croak.

“Don’t try to talk darlin,’” Leonard told him. “Drink some water first.”

“Doctor McCoy, may I speak with you?” Dr. T’Lara asked as one of the nurses came forward with a cup of water for Jim. 

“Of course,” he replied. Uhura stayed where she was at Jim’s beside, taking the cup from the nurse and holding it up to his mouth. T’Lara led Leonard to just outside of Jim’s room. 

“I have requested a Vulcan healer from the embassy,” she told him. “I have spoken with the psychologists on staff and they agree that James’ suicide attempt was brought on by an adverse reaction to his bond with Spock.” 

Over T’Lara’s shoulder, Leonard saw Winona returning and knew that they would need to hear any information on Jim’s health. He beckoned her over. 

“Dr. T’Lara, this is Winona Kirk,” he said. Winona held up the Vulcan salute in greeting. T’Lara inclined her head in acknowledgement and returned it before continuing, addressing Winona. 

“As I was saying, the healer that I spoke to agreed to come see James in two days, after he has had sufficient time to recover.” 

“Healer? You mean a mind healer?” Winona asked. T’Lara nodded. 

“Yes. Dr. Sopan quite adept in the mind arts. He informs me that suicide after a broken bond is not unheard of even among Vulcans, usually after a traumatic severance, but due to James’ human mind, he reacted adversely to the  _ Kholinar  _ rituals.” 

“I see,” said Winona. Leonard could see she was just barely holding it together. “Thank you, doctor.” 

T’Lara nodded once and turned back down the hall. 

Winona walked into Jim’s room. 

Leonard wondered why it had come to all of this. 

\---------

His mouth felt like cotton, and his head felt empty. Jim lay in the bed completely apathetic to the two nurses bustling around him taking bio readings and adjusting his monitors and medications. Apparently his blood volume was deemed sufficient, because one of his IV’s was removed and bandaged. The others were replaced before the women started unwrapping the bandaging around his wrists to check the surgical sites, revealing the swollen, purple skin that he barely recognized. He had to focus to see where the strong, nearly invisible thread of microfiber stitches held the wounds together, but he could still see them. Bones had explained why stitches were used, but he couldn’t remember through the cloud that the medication had him in. 

A psychologist had just spent the past hour digging through his head - metaphorically, of course, but it hardly felt that way. He had heard the phrase “Vulcan healer” at some point. Probably someone coming to fix the damage Spock had done.

Caught up in his own head, he hadn’t noticed the nurses finish their work, or Bones coming in. He started as he felt a hand curl around his fingers. 

“Hey darlin’. How are you feelin’?” Bones was quiet. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days - maybe he hadn’t. 

“Like I tried to kill myself,” he whispered back. He didn’t know what made him say it. Bones’ eyes watered. 

“Yeah, I guess you would.” Bones chuckled as he said it, the motion shaking the tears free. He sniffed and wiped them away with a sleeve. “God, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.” 

Jim’s head throbbed painfully, his vision blurring with his own tears. “No,” he said. “No Bones I’m sorry. And I’m sorry to my mom and everyone else-” He felt his voice break. “It hurts so much. And I can’t get away from it.” 

Jim was getting hysterical, all of the bottled up emotions from the past three months finding themselves an outlet as he sobbed his heartache to his best friend. Bones couldn’t think of anything to say. 

Jim cried himself to sleep. 

He still wished he were dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway.....
> 
> Technical things:  
> If you don't think Bones calls Jim "darling" you are wrong and I don't know what to say  
> I have no idea what to call Bones when it's his POV. Just go with it  
> Mixing Xanex and Alcohol may cause respiratory failure  
> A side effect of Xanex is suicidal thoughts or actions  
> If you think Jim's acting weird, I'll explain it next chapter  
> I have Opinions about 23rd century medicine that I should write down, but I won't. Just take it all at face value and know that I have my reasons for writing what I did. I've given all of this a great deal of thought.  
> More Jim and Spock in the next chapter, I promise. 
> 
> Follow my tumblr(s): @twink-luke-skywalker @uss-starprise-entership


	3. Chapter 3

_Present_ Day

Spock’s commission was reinstated the next day, although he insisted on taking the re-entry exam in the interest of fairness - of course he passed with flying colors. He found himself outside of Jim’s door an hour later, a bottle of amber whiskey in his hands as a peace offering. Jim answered on the first ring.

“Mr. Spock.”

“Jim.”

They were at an awkward impasse, neither wanting to make the first move. That is, until Jim’s manners seemed to win out and he stepped aside, gesturing for Spock to enter.

“Thank you for the whiskey,” he said awkwardly. “But I’m not allowed to drink. Do you want anything?” he asked, walking into the kitchen area of of the apartment.

“I am fine at this moment, Jim. Thank you for your offer, however.”

Spock sat on the couch as Jim opened the refrigerator, the sound loud and intrusive in the large, quiet space. He heard Jim mutter under his breath _Fine has variable definitions_ , but he chose not to comment on it.

Jim sat in a chair across from him, looking distinctly bitter and uncomfortable. It was a new look on his face, and Spock did not particularly appreciate it.

“Bones called me. Gave me a dressing down and told me to let you in when you got here.”

“I take it the doctor told you everything?”

Jim snorted sarcastically. “He didn’t tell me a damn thing. Said we needed to work our shit out with each other and he’s ‘not a carrier pigeon, dammit.’ So.” He took a swig from his water. “You read them, I presume. That’s why you’re here.” It was not a question, but a statement of fact.

“Yes.”

Jim took another drink. “You’ll want to know why. So let’s get right into it then.”

“Jim there is no need-“

“No need to what? Be so nonchalant? It happened Spock. That’s all there is to it. I can’t spend my entire life wallowing in the fact that I tried to kill myself, now that I have my entire life. I’ll be as nonchalant as I damn well please.”

“Well I cannot bear it! The very idea of you taking your own life disturbs me. This is a serious matter and I will treat it as such.”

“ _You’ll treat it as such_ . Spock you weren’t here! You don’t know what it was like. At first the bond was just fainter than normal, but we’ve had assignments do that before, and then I woke up screaming because all of a sudden you were _gone!_ I drank myself into a stupor trying to fix it! You can’t _fucking_ talk to me about it! _”_

Jim’s voice cracked and broke. He looked like he was at a loss for words. The silence was thick and uncomfortable.

“It was the day that initiates were completely integrated into the _Kholinar_.”

Jim looked at him, eyes narrowed. “What?’

“That.. stardate was the day that all initiates performed the first complete ritual of the _Kholinar_. Up until that point, all of the tasks we performed were merely to work on preparing the mind for a complete lack of emotion. This...was probably what you felt.”

Spock at a loss for words. The end of the world had truly come, Jim thought.

“Why are you here, Spock, besides McCoy chewing you out? Why did you come here?”

“Because I deemed it necessary. You tried to take your own life, and Doctor McCoy told me that you have not been the same. The lack of a bond is clearly causing you harm.”

“So that’s what you want? To help me? I have the mental blocks on from that mind healer the psychologists made me see. I’m fine.” His tone was icy and bitter.

“Doctor McCoy does not think so.”

“Yeah well what does Bones know?”

Silence. Spock was stunned, hearing Jim insult one of his oldest friends. Doctor McCoy was right. He was not okay.

“ _I_  know that McCoy is right, that the block has changed you, and we need to see a Vulcan healer.”

“Don’t fucking _we_ me Spock. There is no _we_ and there hasn’t been for three years. Just me and this hole in my fucking head.”

“So then you admit there is something wrong.”

Jim fell silent, having backed himself into a corner he could obviously not escape. Spock let him sit and contemplate in silence.

“Jim, would you consider reaffirming the bond?”

“What?” Jim narrowed his eyes. “You leave, and then come back three years later and want back into my head just like that? That’s fucking rich Spock, let me tell you.”

“I suggest it because you are not yourself. I suggest rebonding because I feel that it would be beneficial to you to see how your mind responds. I don’t ask this because I feel I am entitled to you or your mind. I only want to help you.”

“It would help if I knew why you left,” Jim said. “If you really wanted to help me. And not that same shit you told me before you left.” He saw Spock flinch. “That doesn’t sit right with you does it?” Emotionless his ass. Spock looked dreadful.

“I myself do not know exactly why I went to Gol. I cannot properly articulate my feelings on the matter.”

Seeing where this conversation was heading, Jim decided to cut to the chase. “You want to meld with me.”

“Yes.”

“May I refer you to our earlier conversation?” Jim snorted. He was getting infuriating, Spock thought. He clearly needed the blocks gone as soon as possible.

“I am not skilled in the mind arts, Jim. I will be unable to remove the blocks in your mind. A simple meld will not bond us, but it will allow you to see my thoughts that I cannot put into words.” Jim still looked hesitant. “You said it would help to know why I left.”

“I did.” Evidently, Jim’s own logic had seemed to clear his head.

There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them, Jim moving to sit on the couch beside Spock, both falling into the familiar meld pattern. Spock’s fingers spidered over his face, anchoring on his meld points.

“ _My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts_ …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beep beep here comes the recollection bus. Also sorry for the shorter chapter, but it just needed to end, you know?
> 
> Anyway Jim's acting like a dick 1. because of the mental blocks and 2. because antidepressants can change your mood b/c mood changing juice. 
> 
> You are advised not to drink on antidepressants.
> 
> I actually haven't written the meld yet so the next update might be a while because I'm starting college in a week. It is currently titled "insert something I will write later" on my computer. 
> 
> Follow my tumblr(s) @uss-starprise-entership and @twinklukeskywalker


	4. Chapter 4

_ It was...dull. That was the first thing that Spock noticed as he sank into Jim’s mind. The change was stark, and it made him uneasy.  _

_ Prior to his departure, Jim’s mind had been a brilliant, vibrant place, full of warmth and sunshine yellows. Of course he had his darker memories: Tarsus, the loss of his crew members, and the like, but they had been buried deep, hidden in the recesses of his mind, barely accessible. Now the landscape was a dull gray. The warmth was gone. He heard Jim give a mental huff. _

_ “So?”  _

_ “This is not your mind, Jim.” _

_ “It’s been my mind for a while now. You get used to it.” _

_ Spock wondered how one such as Jim Kirk could get used to this.  _

_ “Like I said, you weren’t here.” Jim snapped at him. Spock ignored him and wandered to the bonding site. _

_ The threads of the bond were faint and tattered, belying their disuse and abandonment. He felt Jim try to recoil.  _

_ “Leave it!”  _

_ “Jim I must show you that the bond is not broken.” _

_ “Sopan showed me and nothing happened. I doubt it’s helpful.”  _

_ “Show me.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “Show me what happened Jim, if you are so incensed at my absence. What was it like?” _

_ Instantly, agonizing pain wracked Spock’s head, so much so that he nearly broke the meld. He saw behind Jim’s eyes. He stared down a mostly empty bottle of rum, the little white pills he had bought off the street. How shameful that was, a Starfleet Admiral, buying street drugs like a fucking teenager… _

_...there was a knife somewhere, he remembered… _

_...for the first time in his life, Spock felt almost truly nothing. So this was it, the emotionless state sought out by his people. It was serene. His mind did not have to work against itself for control, did not have to expend energy to keep of the reputation of the Vulcan species. No more battles with his human half. If this was just the earliest stage, he could hardly image completion of the  _ Kholinar  _ discipline… _

_...he could barely breathe. His eyes flickered in and out. Bones’ worried face was swimming in his vision. The blood on his hands felt strangely cold… _

_...he reflected, as he climbed the mountain path. How he felt he had failed Jim, his t’hy’la. How his emotions had become too much for him to handle. Jim had long been telling him that his human half didn’t dampen any part of his heritage, that it made him unique, special. He could not reconcile that with his upbringing. He and his father had repaired their relationship after Babel, but that did not make up for the torment of his peers… _

_...why had Spock done this to him… _

_...he briefly thought of Jim as the rituals began. His mind brushed over their bond before it dimmed and went gray. He felt a small jolt in the back of his mind… _

_...his vision went dark… _

_...his vision went dark... _

 

~~~~~~

 

Jim came out of the meld crying. Spock came out feeling numb, the wave of emotional transference hitting him full in the chest. They sat together for a long time.

“Why?” Jim finally whispered.

“Why what?” Spock answered.

“Why couldn’t you have told me all of this before you left? Why did you have to leave me wondering if you left because I couldn’t love you enough?” Jim’s voice was cracking around his sobs, and Spock’s heart hurt at his pain.

“Jim, I could not have told you if I had tried. It took extensive meditation to even scratch the surface, and for that I am ashamed. I am ashamed that I lead you to this. I failed my  _ Kholinar _ for a reason. I have felt the guilt ever since I saw you on my return. This had nothing to do with your love Jim. It is the product of my own shortcomings.” 

Jim looked up at him, hazel eyes shining. “Why couldn’t you have worked this out with me?” 

Spock somehow felt even worse. “Jim, even now I cannot explain. But I know that if I had not left, I would still be struggling. I would not have been good for you. Because I left, I am more content with myself than I have been in a long time.”

Jim looked like he was about to cry again. He cautiously leaned forward, resting his head in the crook of Spock’s neck, like they had done in their early days. Spock felt a rush of warmth as Jim’s feelings bled through and he entwined their fingers on his chest.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I missed you so much you have no idea. It was like half of my soul was missing.” He felt Spock pull him closer. 

“I saw,  _ T’hy’la _ . You do not need to say anymore.” 

They lay there in silence, getting used to the feeling of each other after so long, letting feelings flow across their shared contact. The bond was not unblocked, but Jim felt a small flare in his mind, something he had not felt in years.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry,” he said after a while. “God I’ve treated you like shit I’m sorry.”

“The fault is not yours  _ T’hy’la _ . It is mine. I did not know the true extent about how our bond would affect you, and you nearly ended your life. It is I who should apologize.”

Jim looked up at Spock from his chest. “I want to see the healer. As soon as possible. Tonight maybe.” 

Spock carded his fingers through Jim’s hair. “I shall contact your healer. He is the most familiar with your mind, so it would be simple for him to remove the blocks.” He felt Jim hum in agreement, but he didn’t move. “Jim.” 

“Hmmm?”

“You must get off me if you intend to see the healer today.”

“Just…let me have this. For a little longer.”

“Of course  _ ashayam _ .”

He felt Jim smile into his chest. He felt his heart beating against him.

Alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deleted the first upload of this chapter and edited it because I realized I am in fact a garbage can and needed to re-look at it. 
> 
> I've finally emerged from my swamp after months and I apologize, but sometimes it really do be like that. I started my first semester of college and I was playing volleyball and I'm a chem major so if I had energy I didn't have time and if I had time I didn't have energy so...I'm on Thanksgiving break this week so maybe two chapters who knows?
> 
> I promise, mostly happy things from here on out, but I've caught up to what I had pre-written so we shall see. Jim needed to really Get Out his feelings, and that was probably a sort of catharsis so now he's ready to kiss and make up wink wonk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the rating increases...

Jim slept on his chest that night, his arm slung across his stomach and his leg slotted between Spock’s. His hand rested over his heart. 

~~~~~~

Three years at Gol and a lifetime of Vulcan disciple did not exempt Spock from his extreme discomfort sitting in front of Dr. Sopan. Sopan was older, roughly the same age as his father if Spock had to estimate. His hair was starting to go gray, and he wore the traditional Vulcan mask very well, although Spock could sense he was relatively easy-going. Jim was more at ease next to him on the low bench, as he had been seeing Sopan for three years.

“Bond restoration is always intense,” Sopan was telling them. “Even more so when it is as deep and complex as a  _ T’hy’la _ bond. The length of time that it was suppressed is also significant, so expect an extreme emotional transference.” He turned to Jim. “James, this effect will be amplified for you, as you have not had the lifetime of training that Vulcans do, and that your physiology differs from Vulcans. It will not be painful, it will just be quite overwhelming. Do you both understand?” 

Spock and Jim nodded.

“Very well. If you two will begin a meld, I will join to take down James’ mental blocks.”

Spock faced Jim, still feeling uncomfortable about performing such a personal act with his mate in front of a third party, however professional Dr. Sopan was. Regardless, he shrugged it off and continued, placing the tips of his fingers to Jim’s meld points. 

_ Again he was faced with the dull gray landscape that he had seen the previous night, although this time he could see faint patches of color trying their hardest to return. As he and Jim both got their bearings, Sopan’s presence joined them. _

_ “If you two would accompany me,” he said, moving them towards the bonding sites in Jim’s mind. Spock felt Jim recoil slightly, self-preservation taking over. He gently pulled Jim along with them, pausing as Sopan got to work. A block cracked, and then another.  _

They were all thrown free of the meld without warning, Jim slumping forward into Spock completely unconscious, Spock and Sopan gasping as they regained awareness. 

_ “I did warn you,”  _ Sopan said after a time. He had settled back into his own chair as Spock had lain Jim down on the low couch. He looked at Spock.  _ “Forgive me, but I must ask. My mate is Vulcan. How have you dealt with a mate who is so deeply feeling? I have never seen his mind as intense as it was just then. When I met James, he had already partially closed off his bond. I just continued the process. _ ”

_ “He is my T’hy’la,” _ Spock said, simply.  _ “I cannot think of a way to describe it other than that word. If I had to, I would call him half my soul, if you would forgive the sentiment.” _ He looked down at Jim, who had not yet stirred, the back of his mind buzzing faintly and their bond reasserted itself. 

Sopan merely inclined his head in understanding, rising from his chair. 

_ “I will let you two have some privacy. Stay here for as long as it takes for James to awaken and recover, and then you may go.” _ He crossed the room to the door.  _ “Dif-tor heh smusma,” _ he said, raising the  _ ta’al _ . 

_ “Sochya eh dif,” _ Spock replied, raising his hand in return.

And then they were alone, Jim’s breathing soft and gentle in the silence of the room. Spock maneuvered his body so that he was sitting under Jim, mirroring their positions from the previous night, the only difference being that this time their bond was again humming in his head and under his skin.

He took the time to meditate, slipping into a shallow trance which allowed him to inspect the glowing threads of the bond. He used Jim’s breaths as a metronome to lull him deep into his mind.

A hitch and a sigh that brought him out of his trance alerted Spock that Jim was awake, and he looked down to see hazel eyes blinking up at him, slightly clouded with sleep. Their fingers tangled in a Vulcan kiss.

_ “T’hy’la,” _ Jim said, the word rolling off of his tongue uneasily.  _ “Wuh tel…?”  _

“It is restored,  _ ashayam,” _ Spock said. Jim sighed happily and snuggled closer. 

“I can feel it,” he said. “In my head. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.” 

Spock hummed. “Jim, we must be leaving soon. Dr. Sopan was kind enough to give us some time to recover, but I doubt he would be pleased to return to find us making love on his office couch. Jim snorted in laughter.

“Spock you dirty old man. You’re back in my head after three years and you expect to be back in my pants within three seconds.”

“Jim you misunderstand,” Spock said. “I am only repeating your mental overlap. This is entirely your idea.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to Jim’s. Jim responded for a few moments before pushing him off.

“You’re right. You’re so right. And if you don’t get off me I’ll completely ignore you and jump your bones right here anyway. “ He pushed himself up and extended a hand to Spock, who grabbed it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Mr. Spock, we just got married again, correct?”

“If you like,” Spock said, pulling Jim close, hands wandering. 

“Then I propose that we have our second wedding night. All day.” 

“I am not opposed,” Spock said.

“Then let’s go home,  _ ashayam. _ ” 

~~~~~~

Spock pushed Jim through the door of the apartment and up against a wall, causing some photos to rattle in their frames. 

“You’ll make the neighbors angry if you keep that up,” Jim panted as Spock sucked on his neck right below his jaw. 

“It is the middle of the day. I would assume they are at their jobs,” Spock replied, hitching Jim’s leg up and around his waist, grinding against him. As Jim opened his mouth to ask another question, Spock covered it with his own, shoving his tongue in to tangle with Jim’s. He felt Jim’s hands at his waist, searching his robes for an entry. 

“God right now I hate your Vulcan robes,” he groaned. “So I swear to god if you don’t get me into the bedroom in the next minute I might actually combust.” 

“I live to serve,” Spock said. An with that he scooped Jim up bridal style and carried him the remaining way, depositing him on the bed before starting to undo the clasps on his robe. Jim looked up at him with hooded eyes, palming the bulge in his pants. Spock finally stripped himself of all of his robes, folding them all up neatly and placing them over the back of a chair before turning to Jim, his erection jutting up proudly towards his flat stomach.

“Strip,” he said. Jim stretched up like a cat, ignoring him.

“Make me,” he said. Spock was suddenly on top of him, pinning his arms above his head. 

“Do not test me, James. I have not so much as touched myself for three years, and if you make me wait I will satisfy myself and leave you here, as you are. Now strip, or I will rip these clothes off.” 

“You make that sound so tempting,” Jim purred. He yelped as Spock pulled his shirt open and ran his tongue down his chest to latch on to a nipple. “Spock!” Spock undid Jim’s pants the rest of the way and grasped his cock, feeling him shudder as he did so. 

“Jim, where is the lubricant?” Spock asked, sucking bruises into the skin on Jim’s ribs.

“Bedside table,” Jim groaned. “Hurry up!” 

“Patience is a virtue,  _ ashayam _ .” Spock moved across his body to rummage in the drawer.

“When have you ever known me to be virtuous?” Jim asked, reaching down to fist Spock’s erection. Spock let himself get lost in the feeling for a few moments before his fingers closed on the tube he was looking for and he knocked Jim’s hand away, situating himself between his spread thighs. 

“Almost never,” Spock said. He felt the flash of amusement from Jim through the bond and Jim’s hands on the back of his head pushing him down. He took the hint and sucked Jim’s cock into his mouth, letting his muscle memory take over as he buried his nose in the thick curls at the base. Jim arched up into him, moaning loudly and curling his fingers into his hair. 

Spock sucked on him for a few minutes before he dropped Jim’s cock from his mouth, ignoring his complaint, and moving down to mouth at his testicles before tonguing at his hole. He felt the burst of pleasure pass between them, felt the phantom sensation at his own hole and he moaned into Jim’s skin. Reaching blindly he found the tube and uncapped it, squeezing it onto his fingers and pushing two into Jim along with his tongue. He dug the fingers on his free hand into Jim’s fleshy hips to keep him still. 

“Spoooock,” Jim groaned, trying to roll his hips into Spock’s touch. Spock inserted another finger in response, searching for the spot inside him that would make the link between them sing. Jim moaned, low and deep in his chest. Deciding to annoy his mate, Spock thrust his fingers in a few more times before pulling them out, continuing to lick and suck around Jim’s hole. Jim whined his complaint at the loss. “Spock if you don’t fuck me soon I’ll-”

“You will what,  _ T’hy’la _ ?” Spock said, abandoning his task and moving back up Jim’s body, pinning him. “You don’t seem to be able to move at the moment.” To make his point, he ground his naked cock against Jim’s, feeling the bond flare.  

“First you give me shit about making you wait, and now-” Spock cut Jim off again by shoving his hips forward and burying himself inside. Jim almost screeched in pleasure, raking his nails down Spock’s back and raising green lines in his wake. Spock kept his thrusts measured, savoring the heat, the tightness of Jim around him. Unvulcan like, maybe, but now was not the time for his Vulcan sensibilities. He sunk his teeth into Jim’s neck - high enough to no be covered by the new uniforms - and hitched Jim’s leg up around his waist, changing the angle of his thrusts to brush across his prostate on every pass. 

A movement underneath him brought him out of his reverie; Jim was reaching down to curl his hand around his cock. Spock batted it away.

“No,” he growled. “Mine. You are all mine,  _ T’hy’la _ .” He sucked down on Jim’s neck again, marking him further, clutching onto his hips so tight he knew they would bruise. Jim would know that he was his and his alone. 

“Meld us, Spock,” Jim whispered into his ear. “I want to  _ feel _ you,  _ ashayam _ .”

Spock needed no other encouragement. He placed his fingers on Jim’s meld points, and he was in his mind. He felt the stretch and pressure of his own cock inside him, felt the ache of the bruises blossoming on his hips and thighs. 

It was almost too much. Spock speed up his thrusts, hearing the lewd slaps of skin on skin, his own soft moans and Jim’s cries. 

Jim orgasmed first, his body seizing up and arching under Spock, painting both their stomachs with his seed. His pleasure bleed across the meld, and his channel clenched around Spock. 

Spock felt himself tip over the edge, filling Jim. And then he knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assume you all know your Vulcan, but  
> wuh tel - the bond  
> Also, in the conversation between Spock and Sopan, the italics mean they are speaking Vulcan
> 
> Also:  
> Yeehaw I have returned from my swamp to publish this chapter, which has been written only between the hours of 11pm and 2am, with the small exception of today, where I wrote for most of the day. I'm in college yall, I have no life outside of school. I haven't slept more than 7 hours a night for two months. All of my braincells are fried. But now I am on spring break, so I can not do anything except write, so yeah.  
> I have not written porn in so many years Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, but I did my diddly darn best so thats something.  
> PS - if you think all of their problems are completely solved and are mad about it taking approximately 0 seconds, I have some ideas in the works so calm down.   
> Please please please please comment or give kudos, they really are my motivation. And also because I have no beta, no one else reads this but me, so some sort of feedback would be appreciated thank you.
> 
> Yeehaw, and have a nice day. 
> 
> Follow me on twitter @h_c_arthur and on tumblr @twink-luke-skywalker (main) and @uss-starprise-entership (star trek side blog)


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